I was disconnected with the world. I lived mostly in my inner world. I can’t seem to understand how people live. I probably hated them. Yet, I may have been demanding understanding from them. I was unfair. I was a difficult person.
In my earliest memory, I remember the feeling of fear. I fear my parents, my brothers, and the world. They are all overwhelming. A sharp tone will make me cry, a strong stare will bother me for days; I was full of fears. And since I didn’t like the feeling, I got my guard up early on. I guarded my heart. I rarely open things about myself, so that they can’t hurt me.
I grew up shy. Also I was bullied as ugly, which I believed I was, later grew into having zero self-confidence. In contrast to those negativities, thankfully, I was gifted as an artist. With it I indulged hours and hours drawing on my own. I got disconnected more and more to the world. I lived inside my head.
I grew up with most of my time drawing. After school, I’ll draw